Slobodan Škerović

Chrome

1.
She lifts up her bloody marten fur
from the red-rust floor, steps on ice tea
cans; empty sky sick at musty
docks and stench.
There is the belching of bare survival
left alone. Scepter is of brass, silicon in
capsule, dates from nylon…
Bitch, tense in waiting, nervously
pushes alt-tab staring into
goggles carps: they yawn their
yellow lips, swallow dirty plankton.
Rumbling in ears, she trembles…
Ice falls, crackling mist of
tower-cities. She is like Chrome,
symbol of resistance, snake from swollen veins
of cortex. Mucus of dialectics.
Dross of peeled off colors.
Here all is worn out, one sleeps
in dreams, lives in tailings.
Like queen of death she rules the barefooted
daydreamers. Only – with them
there’s no breakthrough!
For a short while this tuned out machine
will jolt, and then, collapse into the bosom
of dead Earth.

2.
Into the sound of shell dives
frenzied rodeo. Adjusting
whiskers of heart, sprouts jet from
nano-glands; furious antibodies
dismember tales of ecosystem’s
trance, of simmered lava,
stale ocean. Robomites
recycle past experiences
into fresh lattice and golden
beans of corn: vegerolls
of chlorophyll and egg white.
In Arco tower winded units
trim collars. Shirts and
slips care, lard suffers
gripe of stretch.
No one to enter unwarranted
into the pale marble lobbies.
There are the terminals, quantum
chirrups. No one from slimy hills
to go down into noble trenches.
The bodiless stares into cytocolonies.
Floats in blue vertebrae soup,
tied up with genegauge. Red screams to him.
His taste is debased.
Platinum swims temperatures,
through micro layers of thermo zones.
Before him nanozoes split,
coagulate spectral dabs.
Dribble trinary roads of
phantomlike decoders.
White tureens of jelly for lunch.
Blend of meat and chrome.

4.
She like Chrome undresses
plastic kilt, and pushes into
warm mass of frog caviar.
Yellow strawy hair sucks pond.
Far from skimmers’ sound
she enters the symbiosis with kelp and
volvox.
Gray tentacles of fungi,
like gills, drink the song of her
nerves.
Aboveground rules dark.

9.
Self-consciousness winces
in lullaby. When it’s
distinguished from diapers,
wetted it cries. Spanked on
the snout.
There spears of doubt aim.
There soft sides of
unleashed beast. Renegade
ideas.
In wires and tubes of
chemionics. In glory of
electrics.

They lactate on Galactic
graveyard’s fire. As if death’s
to honor them. Stellar
drive.
Those are their wings
of gangrene, opiates
from hollow elder’s marrow.
Sips from drawers, catalogues,
sticky wax.
Far, into devil’s domain.
Into ozone’s height.
Fyodor’s axe waits for them.

11.
Tumuli, like breasts sawn
in valley. Fortune
buried, to Earth.
Dagobas, fosterers of
Meru. Those are simple
things. From pain of slaughter
to nervous breakdown.
Life is suffering.
It becomes and disappears
into the trance of processions.
All evil is in milk
sweet.

12.
There is Chrome in dawn’s light,
rises up agile,
looking. Fire hides
behind black facial lines.
Fire shapes itself
with ashes’ shine.
Hates the world with eyes.
Crackle forms.
Rage of impotence, restraint
of life.

13.
And when I passed there again
in wild storm,
silence sheltered me.
And wreath of thorns deeply
stuck. Pain from God.
And acid sweat.
Chrome loved me.
And while I died
again. There, all life is
enchanted. Rain and wind,
dry rock.
And fire from Chrome,
embers and altar,
broken wall.

14.
Alone in world
ant viragos
suckle honey
from their sisters.
When they are killed
into eternal glory
they go.
Perfect life
instantaneous like lightning.

15.
That struggle is
with yourself. You rancid
in battle with demons,
falcons. Into that battlefield
they come from pillars
of shame. Unbuttoned
priests.
Tremulous togs.
You throw sandals
into dark ling. And again you face
uncertain day.
Throw spear,
fear.
Don’t do evil.

28.
And what but death
to the one who praises his?
Enemy cold, preoccupied.
Hatred from bottom bitter.
There – that loathed nest!
That obliterate with barbarians!
Sour secrete
vomit into world.
It is hordes bellowing
under gallows.
Fear and frost hiding.
Run fakirs into minarets.
Fangs burrow cells.
Bury laughter into Ararat.
Light torches of lard.
In coveys squints curia.
Nasty enchantress…

38.
Trackers wise,
piles of spawn.
Sublime, passionate.
Drums scoop beads.
From the other world children
fat. Force coos
sweetness. Mountains hunger.
You spin into minds
slippery membranes.
Come into timid
hands, into hug.
Where God drinks strings of
face, and sucks bloody
brocade. Lips split
into red hot stigma
spreads the Lord.
What do you think, jet black?
Now you are here in love
torn apart.

People at coast, you shaken
by evening breeze. From stars
stream oppressing us.
Into heart watch, lavish you.
Songs dark of fireflies.
Drift in dream into bosom
together. Break syllables
mortar brittle. And with bronze
ideas’ pastiche. All impermanent
shore of genesis.
Into vortex taste of ground.
There we are pulled by quiet tide.
Gray plumule of ibis.